


A Change of Tact

by FujinoLover



Series: Bang Bang [5]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Cunnilingus, F/F, Face-Sitting, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:25:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4829066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FujinoLover/pseuds/FujinoLover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The growth of their relationship was unavoidable. Thus in typical Shaw-ness, she took the initiative to move things forward—like sitting on Root’s face, for a start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Change of Tact

Out of the safe places Root owned, a cabin in the woods was probably the safest. Although Shaw suspected the insistency of which Root had whisked her away had nothing to do with the Italian mob she had just pissed, she kept her mouth shut throughout the ride. They had lost phone connection a while ago. Then they came across fewer vehicles as the road narrowed, until it was only them, tall branches, and land covered in snow. A grin curled Shaw’s lips. It was Alaska all over again. And just like Alaska, she knew where this journey would lead them—naked, sated, and hopefully not in the back of a car again.

 

They had been doing this for a while. This arrangement—fuck buddies—some sort of coworkers who gave each other mind blowing sex sessions. Calling it a partnership was quite a stretch, but whatever the hell _this_ was, Shaw had not had the urge to fuck someone else. Although she could not say the same about Root, she did not ask. Did not want to know. Putting a voice to the thought would make this thing they had—this chemistry that sparked between them, thrumming and ready to blow up like an active C4 bomb at the faintest brush of skins— _real_. It was not something she was ready to confront.

 

The cabin was small, only one room containing a bed and one bathroom. The short walk from the car had them shivering from the cold. Shaw was a little disappointed but also thankful that the first thing Root did was lighting up the fireplace.

 

“This cold’s freezin’ my ass,” Shaw complained. She rubbed her hands together, blowing into them occasionally while waiting for the fire to heat up the room.

 

From her position crouching in front of the fireplace, Root looked up with a smirk. “I can help warming it up.”

 

Shaw raised a brow, challenging Root, who simply motioned to the cabinet on the farthest corner of the cabin with a wave of her hand. Shaw found some bottles of liquor inside, pouring one into a clean mug. She managed to take a generous sip before it was stolen from her. The protest died in her throat as she stared at Root. The fire dancing behind her was highlighting the golden streaks on her curls while its warmth caressing the rosy hue of cold on her cheeks and Shaw wanted to grab her close and steal her breath away.

 

She did both.

 

It was new—the kissing part. Too intimate, too _normal_ , and she was the one who initiated it. It made something wants to crawl out of her chest and consume them both as whole. But the little gasp of surprise, the way Root’s eyes widened then fluttered shut, and the instinctive tilt of her head to adjust their mouths together, those tiny reactions beat up the uncomfortableness and put the restless monster back on its shackles.

 

Root’s lips were hot against hers. The sweet, smoky taste of bourbon lingered as she licked them open. Root was more than willing to comply, sighing ticklish breath against Shaw’s cheek as she parted her lips and welcomed Shaw’s tongue with lazy suck.

 

“Sameen...” Root said when their kiss ended.

 

It was a plea and it annoyed Shaw more than the fact that earlier, Root had swooped in to save her (yet again) like some sort of knight in shiny black SUV. Because Root was too freaking polite, even during sex. She was all bark and no bite and doe eyes and timid tug on Shaw’s blouse that felt like asking for permission she never needed to ask. Root poked around. She pushed and pushed and pushed until Shaw snapped and shoved back. However, she didn’t give in this time around.

 

Instead of taking charge like she usually did (and ripped off Root’s clothes by now), Shaw took hold of Root’s hands and guided them to cup her breasts. The instant blush Root sported would put a virgin teen to shame. She didn’t pull back, yet didn’t do anything either. Still too damn respectful. If she wasn’t staring straight at Shaw, the latter would have snorted a laugh at how ridiculous she was acting. But Root bit the side of her lip and it drove Shaw crazy. Perhaps the plan backfired, but she really couldn’t help herself from smothering Root with another kiss.

 

It did the magic somehow, as though Root needed further confirmation that _yes, I want you to screw my brain out too_ —further than the boobs squeezed momentarily in her hands. She began clawing desperately at the back of Shaw’s neck, tugging her hair and scratching the skin while their teeth knocked in a sloppier kiss. Shaw would soon have a bruise on her lip and she did not care in the slightest.

 

It was not that doing it on the back of a car while being in the middle of nowhere was not good, but now they had space that Shaw intended to use to its full advantage. That, and the sturdy bed which headboard she could tie Root’s wrists on. Or one she could anchor her hands onto while lowering herself to Root’s mouth. The idea warmed her stomach and some place lower. It had been a damn while.

 

Root divested out of her clothes and underwear in record time, while Shaw was otherwise distracted by the increasing amount of skin being exposed. She snickered at the apparent enthusiasm as she stripped off her own bra. She hadn’t had the time to shed her panties when Root robbed her again into a kiss.

 

The back of Root’s knees hit the edge of the bed and she stumbled, miraculously without breaking their connection. Firmly holding onto her shoulders, Shaw straddled her lap. Their bare breasts pressed up together and Root moaned into the kiss. Root’s hands wandered from the jut of shoulder blades—one squeezed a breast, rolling its peak between a thumb and forefinger, while the other palmed Shaw through the fabric of her panties.

 

Shaw broke the kiss long enough to push Root down. Her hands adjusted themselves onto Shaw’s thighs, humming from the feel of strong muscles under warm skin. Root scooted back until she was lying on the very center of the bed, staring at Shaw as she took off the last article of clothing from her body. Dark curls fanned out, spilling all over the pillow and framed her face. Her grin was wide and childlike. The mischievous glint in her eyes was darkened by lust. She looked stupid and it made something stupid inside Shaw’s chest did stupid thing.

 

When Shaw climbed back on top of Root, it wasn’t one she expected. She let out the littlest noise of surprise, which, due to their current position, was _felt_ rather than _heard_ by Shaw. It didn’t take much for her to figure out what Shaw wanted—not with knees on each side of her head and Shaw’s sex practically on her face. Then she greedily grabbed on her ass cheeks and pulled her down onto her waiting mouth. Shaw shuddered as Root’s eager tongue peeked out to lick along the length of her slit. For her part, Root was really good with her mouth.

 

It wasn’t long before Shaw started meeting each lap vigorously. Her hips grinding down on its own accord, back arched, knuckles white on the headboard. Root would have smirked if her mouth wasn’t full. She kept her hands on her hips, guiding her along while ensuring herself got enough room to breathe. They continued for a good minute before all of a sudden, Shaw halted. She pulled away and Root whined, instinctively grabbing blindly at any part she could reach to keep her still. Alas, her attempt was to no avail once Shaw held her head down. Her pout met a chaste kiss.

 

“I’ve got a better idea,” Shaw rasped, licking at Root’s bottom lip and purring at the taste of herself.

 

Root waited patiently. When she brought Shaw out of the city, she had a distinct idea of what would take place; she just didn’t expect it to happen this way. Shaw didn’t do much, only twisting around so she was facing the foot of the bed and then she was on her again. It gave Root the perfect view of her backside. She knew what Shaw was going to do and it sent a new surge of wetness between her legs. She didn’t get to rub her thighs together to alleviate some relief to the growing ache because Shaw had bent forward. Rock hard nipples brushed the tender skin of her stomach and she shuddered in response. Shaw was breathing hotly against her navel. Her legs were tugged up and apart, the limbs pliant under Shaw’s command.

 

Shaw didn’t mind Root not resuming what she was doing right away, knowing she was brimming with anticipation without even looking at her. Root was not the only one who was really good with her mouth. She planted an open-mouth kiss first. Her tongue sneaked between swollen lips, meeting engorged clit then trailing down arousal-slick labia, over and over again.

 

It was rather hard to concentrate, especially with Root’s tongue trying to wiggle itself inside her. Their current position and the odd angle made it hard to do so, but Shaw enjoyed the struggle and puffs of air Root blew in frustration. A groan rumbled deep in her throat when Root eventually gave up and pressed the flat of her tongue on her clit instead. In return, she buried her face deeper in Root’s sex.

 

It had not occurred to Shaw until a bit later—when Root snaked an arm around and plunged two fingers inside without much preamble—how hard it was to do something while having things being done to herself in the same time. Shaw reacted accordingly to the intrusion, whimpering in pleasure, much to Root’s amusement. She doubled her effort in everything, only momentarily regretted it as Shaw stopped her ministration, too preoccupied to do much else than breathing and nuzzling the inner side of Root’s thigh.

 

Then it became a competition, of who could last longer. After recovering from the previous stimulation, Shaw immediately plotted her game plan. She was at a disadvantage for having a head start, but she knew with her stamina she could last longer and she also knew Root’s soft spots—the way she preferred her clit to be swirled then sucked, the back of her thighs that made her squeal when being scratched, and every little thing that made Root comes faster. Shaw circled the tip of her tongue on Root’s clit twice before sucking it with her lips, grinning as Root jerked under her. Root grunted something unintelligible then slapped her ass. Two could as well play this game.

 

In the end, they came seconds apart from each other, riding the high together. Nerves fried with the sensation until everything was raw and too sensitive to take more.

 

Once Root’s legs grew slack, Shaw let go of her then rolled to the side to avoid crushing her with her weight. Their breaths came as soft pants, overwhelmed by the random cracks of burned wood. Shaw wiped her nose with the back of her hand and licked her lips clean. It felt nice. She made a mental note of doing it again when they had the time and space to enjoy.

 

They lay side by side, not touching, above the covers. The bed too soft underneath, the blankets were inviting, and Root too warm beside her. Then came the awkwardness—not that it was not awkward enough with her feet beside Root’s head and vice versa—it was one that Shaw didn’t quite know how to handle yet, aside from the obvious choice of bolting out through the nearest exit.

 

Her mind was made up the moment she noticed an old, faded scar on Root’s calf and had an unexplainable urge to trace it with her fingers (maybe with her lips, too) and learn about the history behind it. Such pointless post-coital pillow talk was too much, it suffocated her.

 

Shaw threw her legs over the edge of the bed, sat up, and began collecting her discarded clothes. She was putting on her pants when she heard the rustles behind her. Root had slipped between the sheets, curling to herself, and it was still damn cold and it looked so inviting that Shaw was tempted to crawl in and join her. It only made her want to leave faster. She washed up a bit before going out to tackle the snow, hoping it would freeze her brain enough to shut the thoughts. Root made her second guessing herself. It was as annoying as it was refreshing and she could not bear being with her in the too small cabin for any minute longer.

 

The last she saw of her, Root had her back facing Shaw.

 

* * *

 

Minutes later, Shaw came back with cut logs cradled on her arms and Root was no longer in bed. She had dressed and was sitting cross-legged on the rug by the fireplace, a quilt draped over her shoulders and the mug between her hands. There was relief filling her eyes the moment she noticed her presence. Root smiled and Shaw fought the instinctive frown.

 

“I thought you left,” Root commented, seemingly unaffected.

 

That had happened before, a lot. Whenever neither of them had immediate obligation to do, Shaw would grow restless. There was a different itch that nagged her to move, to do something, until she just took off. They never talked about it.

 

“Got nowhere else I wanna be.”

 

Shaw dropped the logs, threw some into the fire as she joined Root and stole the mug back. And if they ended up wrapped in the same quilt with their shoulders touching, it was because Shaw wanted it to be that way.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is most welcome. The idea of sex is fascinating but, uh, I don’t really get it. I’m asexual—gray-ace, technically. I can’t tell if I messed up a smut and it’s been troubling me forever...


End file.
